DeLand graduates from high school despite cystic fibrosis

ORANGE CITY---One year after doctors had expected she would die, Cynthia Thomas, then 13 years old, wrote a list of the 21 things she wanted to do before turning 21.

get a tattoo. catch a fish. learn to drive a stick shift.

They were just cursive notes to herself, really -- simplistic proposals in small capital letters with the potential highlights of her life.

Cynthia has known for years that she will probably die sooner than others because she has cystic fibrosis. There is no cure for the disease. Its only prognosis is death.

"She knows what the outcome of this disease is. She knew from a very early age," said her father, Pat Thomas. "It's not pretty. Unless you get a lung transplant, there's only one option: passing away."

Although her prognosis hasn't changed, some of Cynthia's priorities have. She is 18 now and a recent graduate of DeLand High School. She dual-enrolled at Daytona Beach College and earned her 3.86 grade-point average from home.

"The only thing honestly I've ever wanted to do [is] . . . I wanted to walk. I didn't want to just get my diploma. I wanted to walk across the stage," Cynthia said two days before Friday's ceremony. "That was my biggest thing."

Walking across the stage seemed a given when Cynthia wrote her list. But she got so sick that, in eighth grade, she could only learn from home.

"All the kids that are graduating now are the kids I actually started school with, from elementary on," Cynthia said. "Even though I don't know them all, it'd be my class, either way."

Doctors didn't expect Cynthia to live to be a teenager. But somehow, she has pulled through, even as she waits for a double-lung transplant from Shands Hospital in Gainesville.

'I'm fine'

Had this been the 1950s, Cynthia probably would not have lived to go to elementary school. These days, some people with cystic fibrosis live into their 30s.

The genetic disease damages Cynthia's digestive system and clogs her lungs with thick mucus, making it difficult for her to breathe and prompting her to cough incessantly. She has been hospitalized numerous times because of pneumonia and has been diagnosed with diabetes and osteoporosis.

She tries not to let on that something is wrong. People will see her coughing and ask if she is OK as they watch her face turn beet red as she struggles to breathe.

"I'm fine," she'll say.

There are still some people who don't know she has the disease.

"I was just hoping that nobody saw it or heard it, and I'd just pretend that they didn't," Cynthia recalled. "I wanted to be like the kids next to me. I didn't want to be the odd one."

Cynthia's family never allied itself with large support groups for children with cystic fibrosis. But she did make a friend in Corey Wheeler, whom she had known since kindergarten and who also had cystic fibrosis. He died last year from an infection in his digestive system as he was recovering from a lung transplant. Corey was 17.

"It was emotional because we have to think about our future, too. We had almost decided we're not going to do the transplant," Pat Thomas said. "I've always cared about her quality of life. I don't have a say-so on when my daughter leaves this earth. But I have control on her quality of life."

Cynthia's parents have always assured her that she can stop fighting if the pain gets to be too much. They have decided to still hope for a transplant, but the concept remains a lot to take in.

"In order for our kid to get her lungs, someone her size has to die," Pat Thomas said. "It's horrible. There is nothing great about any of it."

Cynthia spends most of her time in the hospital or at home, studying her lessons and spending time with her parents and 20-year-old brother, Dakota.

"Our son carries a heavy burden. If one of our children was going to have this disease, percentagewise it was supposed to be him, not her," Pat Thomas said. "He carried this on his shoulders for years. He doesn't talk about her sickness now."

The family is still very close. They raise money for Cynthia's medical expenses. Recently, they took a family vacation to Hawaii, courtesy of the Make-A-Wish Foundation.

Cynthia has said she doesn't want to spend most of her time cramming in activities before she dies.

"For the most part," she said, "I'd rather sit at home with my mom and my dad and just watch TV. That's fine with me."

Cynthia didn't go to prom because she didn't want to fuss with an expensive dress and try to connect with teens who didn't really know her. She has never been on a date.

"I don't want to put someone else in a situation that they feel that they're stuck in because I'm sick," she said. "I don't want someone to feel bad like they have to be there."

'She's my hero'

Her take on life -- to simply play the cards she was dealt -- has resonated with those around her.

"I've always considered her illness -- it sounds kind of weird -- as a gift. Because she's touched a lot of people," her father said. "She's my hero."

Although Cynthia has had to readjust her priorities -- such as moving away from home to go to the University of Florida -- she has at least realized one of her greatest milestones: graduation.

"I wasn't sure for a while it was going to happen," Cynthia said. "When I was younger, I had no idea I'd even make it that far."

There's no telling when Cynthia will get her transplant. Priority is given to the most severe cases. Cynthia still doesn't know how to drive a stick shift. But her dad has warmed to the idea of her getting a tattoo, partially because she is an adult now.

Meanwhile, he is hoping to get a license and take his daughter fishing.